In the bag: watermelon

I've got watermelon in mind, thanks to Julia over at A Slice of Cherry Pie, who's hosting this month's In the bag seasonal food challenge.

This month's ingredients are watermelon and mint - and my first thoughts were a salad with melon, feta and mint...but I thought I'd do some research first.

Apparently the first record of watermelons being cultivated dates back to 2000BC, when they were being cultivated in the Nile Valley. There were watermelon seeds in the tomb of King Tut. The melons then crop up in China in 1000AD, and in 1300 the Moors brought seed to Europe.
I've always associated watermelons with African Americans, but it seems that Native Americans were growing them from the 1500s. Here's a 19th century painting by Grace Hudson of a Native American child with said melon.

Watermelons are a huge crop in the United States - the top growers are Georgia, Florida, Texas, California and Arizona. The Texas town of Luling has the highest watermelon water tower in the US.
The US's Watermelon Promotion Board has some great recipe ideas. Watermelons made a fateful appearance in the election of Barack Obama: a mayor in southern California sent out an email depicting the White House surrounded by a field of watermelons. Charged with racism - because of the watermelon's association with slavery - the mayor then claimed he had no idea of the connection. So not only racist but stupid too.

There's some lovely watermelon art around: this painting is by Seth Weaver. And watch out for the art of watermelon carving...
Self-help author Wally Amos has written Watermelon Magic: Seeds of Wisdom, Slices of Life, and sports wonderful watermelon attire.

Here in the UK, our biggest importer sources his watermelons from Spain, Greece, Morocco and Cyprus, and I've seen them in all the Turkish shops nearby. But I wish we had some of the US varieties. Of all the ones I've seen, the most beautiful is a variety called Moon and Stars, after the fabulous splotching in the rind.

All of which is displacement activity for actually coming up with a recipe...but just look what the Japanese have done to their watermelons...

Scones for breakfast

Brain the builder is back again this morning, finishing off work on my roof. There's been a leak for a while and with the rain coming down in punishing amounts, it was time to get it fixed at last. Brian disappeared up his ladder and returned with a grim face: the party wall was crumbling, the gutters were chocked, and there were large gaps letting the rain in. Oh, and the fascia board was rotten. So he's been hard at work over the past couple of days and it's almost done. To celebrate, I thought I'd rustle up some cheese scones to go with morning coffee.

I've loved cheese scones ever since I first bit into one at York University, many moons ago. My scone recipe is based on one from Sue Lawrence: 8oz self-raising flour with large pinches of bicarb and cream of tarter, sprinkles of cayenne and mustard powder, 3oz cheese (today I used Lincolnshire Poacher and a bit of left-over feta), 2oz butter and 5 fluid ounces of milk, soured with a squeeze of lemon. Combine your dry ingredients and butter in a processor then pour in the milk. You'll get a squidgy dough to roll out ready for your scone cutter. Top the scones with some grated cheese and bake at gas mark 7 for 15 minutes. For some strange reason, I always make scones in imperial measurements.
The scones should emerge golden. I set out a plate of six scones, slavered with butter, for Brian and his co-worker which vanished in minutes...
...and I scoffed another couple, leaving a few that can travel with me to Bruce Grove, where I'll be at the Tottenham Festival later this morning, on duty with Friends of the Earth again.

Mango-lacquered chicken

During one of my recent visits to Gourmet.com, I came upon a recipe with the most gorgeous name: peach-lacquered chicken wings. It hinted at fleshy warmth and sticky blackness. I thought I'd have a go at something similar, but using a couple of my Alphonso mangoes and some chicken fillets.

Mango-lacquered chicken fillets

2 mangos, peeled
3 garlic cloves
2 inch pieces of peeled ginger
2 tbs shredded mango chutney (I used my Anila chutney)
4 tbs light soy sauce
4 tbs water
1 red chilli (or 1 tsp dried chilli flakes)
5 or 6 chicken mini fillets, or 2 normal sized ones

Take your mango flesh and whiz in a processor with the garlic, ginger, chutney, liquids and chilli.

Pour into a bowl and add your chicken. Leave to marinade for a couple of hours. When you're ready to cook, you can go several ways: grill, watching like a hawk, until done, or bake in an oven gas mark 5 for 20 mins, turning once, or do what I did: pop into a Remoska for around half an hour.
I served up with some couscous to which I'd added a couple of chopped tomatoes, lots of fresh coriander and a spritz of lemon juice. A lovely summer dish.

Peapod

Earlier this month, I blogged about the wonderful botanical jewellry of Michael Michaud. I'd been coveting this peapod necklace and yesterday, I had a sudden rush of blood to the head. I discovered an online store that had it in stock, so I ordered it as a special late birthday present to myself. Yep, mighty indulgent. Step forward Fishnet Lingerie up in Whitby for extraordinary services to customer satisfaction. Olivia emailed me yesterday evening to say that the necklace should be with me by lunchtime, and at 1230 the parcel arrived. The peapod is even more lovely than I'd hoped, and I'm thrilled to bits with it. A vegetable masterpiece!

Vine leaves and vegan virtues

Yesterday was planned as Greek and vegan - my very first Vegan Tuesday. Things didn't quite turn out that way. But I discovered one thing I never knew - the word 'vegan' was coined by the Vegan Society from the beginning and end of the word 'vegetarian', and the Society was formed in the UK in 1944.
I spent quite a while going through all the stuffed vine leaf recipes I have - from Greece, Turkey, Iran, Iraq and Egypt. The herbs and spices used vary from region to region: on the Greek islands there are no spices but a herby mix of dill, parsley and mint. On the mainland, pinenuts and raisins enter the equation, and in Turkey and Egypt the spices include cinnamon, allspice and coriander. The Iranians like turmeric in the mix, and the Iraqis include cumin. In the end, my main guide was Middle Eastern food guru Claudia Roden, with her recipe from Egypt, although when I checked later with Ghillie Besan's book, the rice stuffing was very similar. One added touch was some wine-soaked raisins - an idea from Susanna Hoffman. So are these Greek? Probably not.
The Turks and the Egyptians both call these 'lying' or 'false' dolmades, as they don't contain meat, and both countries serve them cold. Which type of rice to use? All types are suggested, but I went with arborio. I didn't pre-soak or cook it, which some authors ask for, so the little babies took longer to cook.

Stuffed vine leaves (loosely based on a Claudia Roden recipe)

250g arborio rice
4 or 5 chopped spring onions or half an onion
1 tbp wine-soaked raisins
2 tbp toasted pine nuts
1/4 tsp ground allspice
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
a handful of chopped herbs - I used parsley and mint
salt and pepper
a little olive oil to bind the mixture

20-30 fresh vine leaves
juice of two lemons
150ml olive oil
150ml water
tomatoes or torn vine leaves to line the saucepan, and some peeled garlic cloves to nestle amongst the stuffed leaves


Make your stuffing mix by combining the first nine ingredients. Set aside while you deal with the leaves.
Bring a large pan of water to the boil, and plunge in your leaves, five or six at a time. After a few seconds, the verdant green turns to a dull khaki - below you can see the difference between cooked and uncooked.

They'll take about a minute in the water to turn floppy. Haul them out and pop in the next batch. In another saucepan, make a lining of sliced tomato (or torn vine leaves). Now you're ready to start the production line.

The shape you're aiming for is a squat little cigar. Plop a teaspoon of the mix into the middle of the leaf, then start rolling up from the stalk end. Gently fold in the sides and tuck in the top of the leaf. Fit them snugly into the waiting saucepan along with a couple of cloves of garlic.

You should get enough stuffees to make a couple of layers. Now mix the olive oil, lemon juice and water, and pour over the vine leaves.
Find a heat-proof saucer or plate and place on top of the leaves to stop them unravelling as they cook. Bring to a gentle simmer and cover. Mine took a couple of hours to cook through, so haul one out after an hour or so and see if the rice is done. Leave to cool in the pan (yeah, right, and who was it who was snacking on toasty hot vine leaves as soon as she could?).

Serve with the reserved cooking liquor. Here are two of my babies in the beautiful dish that J bought me on Skiathos for my birthday. They do look brown and unappetising, but I can promise you, they are yummy.
Something I adore is finding a new recipe with very frugal ingredients that turns out to be a stonker. I'm beginning to wonder about my passion for food that looks like wallpaper paste, but again, I promise you this is fab. It's a Greek recipe (so no surprise there) called fava skordalia, or split peas with garlic. Doesn't sound that alluring, does it?

This recipe is from Aglaia Kremezi's The Foods of the Greek Islands: take 2 cups of split peas (chana dal if you're near a south asian food supplier) and boil til tender with a couple of bay leaves. Add salt to taste in the final moments of cooking. Whiz in a food processor with 5 garlic cloves - I used some fresh garlic from the lottie. Then slacken the mixture with 7 tbs vinegar (wine or cider) and as much olive oil as you need. I added some chopped fresh coriander but you could include olives or tomatoes or rocket or parsley...the choice is yours.

So that was to be my vegan and almost Greek supper...but oh my, there was spinach in my veggie box, filo pastry in the fridge and a nub of Gruyere...and I failed. I was irresistibly pulled into making a spinach and cheese pie. Must do better next Tuesday.

Stormy weather

The met office promised thunder today, and finally it's arrived: it really is stair-rods outside, and the garden is getting a good soaking. Which saves me watering later this evening. When I got back from Skiathos, I found that my rocket, mustards and lettuce mix had bolted, so I've resown with a rocket mix, sorrel and mesclun combination. (Thunder has now returned and there's so much rain, my street is likely to flood. Nature with her claws...just how much rain is there up there?)

Yesterday was quite a different matter - gorgeous sun all day, and I headed up to the allotment for a few hours work. First job was to harvest the garlic. Most of it has done really well. We've stored in the shed to dry out. Close inspection of the plot revealed that there was bad news: the broad beans are really suffering from black fly. A few plants have just given up the ghost. On others, there was a good army of ladybirds, so I gave them a water with diluted stinky but beneficial comfrey water, and resowed some Sutton seeds. It may be too late, but I reason that the seeds don't read what's on their packets.

The good news is that the fruit is doing really well.

The goosegogs are doing fine under their mesh covers, and there's fruit on the new black current bushes.

The onions continue to do well, now swelled to an impressive size. They'll be in the ground for a few more weeks.

And the strawberries! They're a variety called Marshmellow and they may be small in size in their first year, but they taste heavenly. Q and I scoffed those that were ripe.

In the shed, there was more good news: the toms are looking healthy and beginning to flower, and the cucumbers are starting to fruit. This year, I've grown mini varieties, including Zeina, Mirella and gherkins. The fat baby is scrambling hard, abandoning its own pole for a neighbour's.
After weeding, clipping, watering and hearing the latest intrigue about who's vandalised our nearest water tank (why oh why? we all cry), I headed for home to make a picnic lunch.

I was due to meet Jeanette at the Paddock, a small local nature reserve, so it was out with the left-over roast lamb and time to mix up the dressing suggested by Hugh F-W in Saturday's Guardian magazine. It's a combination of yoghurt, olive oil, English mustard, cider vinegar and seasoning. Add loads of chopped mint and your shredded lamb.

The next dish was cous cous mixed with pine nuts, tomato, yellow pepper, lemon juice, olive oil and parsley. I packed up and included a good slice of Turkish flat bread that I'd bought first thing with the Sunday papers. At the Paddock, Jeanette and I soaked up the sun and tucked into lunch. How gratifying is it to hear six of my favourite words from Jeanette: 'Can I help myself to more?'

When I got home this evening, I realised I'd got a surfeit of fruit, so I've rustled up a fruit salad of mango, pineapple, banana, strawberries (thank you, lottie neighbour Laura, for her gift yesterday), orange and a couple of springs of lemon verbena from the garden. I found half a lime in the fridge, so the juice went into the sugar syrup. I'm also cooking up a Greek split pea dip ahead of my first vegan Tuesday tomorrow - but more of that later.

Haringey Green Fair and a yearning for lamb

Today's serious business was going to the Haringey Green Fair to help man the Friends of the Earth stall, but I woke with a serious yearning for roast lamb. Is this the after-effects of a holiday in Greece? Maybe not - I was delighted to see Hugh F-W is also in lamb mood in today's Guardian magazine. So I hot-bussed it down to Stoke Newington Farmers' Market and a swift visit to Muck and Magic furnished me with a small leg joint.
Spring has leapt into summer at the market - there was so much great green produce around today, from salad leaves to my first broad beans of the summer from the lovely Sarah Green. Sarah sowed her bean seeds in January, so she's way ahead of me on the fruiting front. I love the way early broad beans are like over-protected babies, huddling in their duvet jackets of zippered and fur-lined pods. Sarah was also selling sweet williams, complementing my home-grown Ferdinand Pichard rose.
A quick trip to Wholefoods (previously known as Fresh and Wild) furnished me with cheese and a jar of za'atar from Zaytoun in...what should one call it? Palestine or occupied land? I don't know, but it's a herbal mix with a tang of the middle east.
On to the lamb recipe:

Roast lamb with potatoes

First make your marinade. Chop four or five garlic cloves and combine with oregano, thyme, black pepper, salt and olive oil. Give it a good bash with a pestle. Pour over your joint and leave for the lamb to soak up the herby goodness for a few hours.

When you're ready to get roasting, pre-heat the oven to gas mark 8. In the meantime, slice potatoes thinly and, if you like, slice an onion too. Layer the onion and potato on the base of your oven tray and put the lamb on top. Combine the juice of two lemons with a small glass of white wine and pour over the lamb and veggies.

Slide into the oven, which you've knocked back to gas mark 5. Await the heavenly aroma - about an hour. Now you'll need to judge the done-ness of the lamb and the done-ness of the potatoes - the lamb gets there first. Remove the lamb to rest, and put the remaining veg on the top shelf of the oven to finish off.

Broad beans are my veg of choice and season. I'll serve them simply with a slavering of melted butter and chopped parsley.

Meanwhile, it turned into a lovely summer's day, and by 1430 I was at Duckett's Common, where fellow FoE friend Tamsin had been on duty.

Our big campaign at the moment is to persuade the council to go more green - we had a lot of support for signing postcards to councillors. I donned a tabard and helped out for an hour or so, while bumping into neighbourhood friends and contacts from Sustainable Haringey.

This year's fair was much better than last year's - a prime spot close to Wood Green was an excellent idea. This green dragon came floating past me, followed by an inspired kids' drum group.

All in all, a pretty good day.

Strawberries and awards

Just had my first two strawberries for breakfast...delicious, but it isn't looking like summer this morning as the sky has just grown very gloomy and there's a hint of rain in the air. Great. Lousy weather for strawberry fairies and the Haringey Green Fair, where I'll be later today, helping out on the Friends of the Earth stall. If you're in the area, it's at Ducketts Common, opposite Turnpike Lane tube station.

This time last week, I returned to find that the lovely Debora of Love and a Licked Spoon had given me an award. Thank you Debora! She writes a fantastic blog with a particularly yummy mango recipe that I've got my eye on for this weekend. With the award comes rules, so before I announce my winners, here's what you fine peeps have to do: Accept the award and post it on your blog, together with the name of the person who has granted the award and his or her blog link. Then pass it on to up to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered. And remember to let them know they've won!

Enough dithering - here are my worthy winners:

Mangocheeks at Allotment2Kitchen is a veggie, a gardener, a cook and writes a mighty fine blog. And her lemon verbena has turned from twig to bush this month!

goodshoeday of With knife and fork is a hop and a skip away from me in north London, and she too haunts middle eastern food shops with a glint in her eye. When she's not cooking, you'll find her foraging for wild food or lurking at farmers' markets.

Under a moody Essex sky, Dan at Essex Eating hunts for the best of local grub, snaps wonderful foody pics and graced the blogosphere with his amazing heirloom egg and bacon pie.

meemalee's kitchen is a riotous mix of pertinent foody comment and astonishing recipes: what she does with goosegogs is everybody's business.

Finally, my good mate Ian is your host at Peacockshock. It's not a food blog (although whenever I visit Hertford, I drag poor Ian round the farmers' market and other foody outlets, showing little mercy), but it's full of wit, wisdom and pics of the heavenly Bollinger the ubercat.

Congratulations, peeps!

A hellenic supper

After my Greek goody hunt, it was time for a Skiathos-inspired supper. One of the starters that had wowed us at Ilya's Orchard was baked feta: I'd read about it but never tasted it. It's delicious, and a doddle to make. Take a good chunk of feta and place it on a piece of foil. Top the feta with a sliced tomato and pepper (the pale green one for perfect authenticity, but yellow or red will do), then drizzle with olive oil and lemon juice and a dash of dried oregano. Wrap up your parcel and put in a hot oven for around 15 mins.
Next up, partly inspired by Mango at Allotment2Kitchen, some roast new potatoes.

Cut your potatoes into chunks, then lavish them with lemon juice, olive oil and herbs: I've used fresh oregano, lemon thyme and common thyme. Add a dash of sea salt and cook in a hot oven (gas mark 6 for me), turning a couple of times as they roast for an hour.

While the roasties and feta were basking in the heat, I made this dayglo version of tzatziki. Take a roasted beetroot (my preferred method for cooking beets is wrapping them in foil and bunging them in the oven until you smell that wonderfully earthy aroma), chop it finely and mix with Greek yoghurt and a finely minced garlic clove. Add a dash of lemon juice. I hesitated before adding some fresh mint, wondering how the sharp greeness would marry with the warm tones of the beetroot, but was unexpectedly good. Serve with a glass of Greek wine.